iPhone 6 + 6 = 12 O Clock.
admin | September 25th, 2014 - 1:03 pm
Rumors, speculation, anticipation, all those words a tawdry hardware hack will employ before, during and following a showcase of gadgety gorgeousness were all as rife as one another as the ninth of the ninth revealed a ruddy east. Speculation surrounding a single, then a double, then a triple serving of spicey apple sauce.
Rumors of slender wrist-work, of perfectly proportioned palm pacifiers, of fabulous phabletc feats. Anticipation surrounding scintillating pairings of prime cured cores, precious inches of indigo lustre, pints of progressive pixelixir and gallons of giga-ale.
Hark! Let us curtail this by a quaver or two. The imposition of NDA’s in an era of supremely savvy technophiles teeming with a greater propensity to report than Reuters, was a subject addressed at considerable length when last professor Intel and his voracious forgers of mothering monoliths unleashed a torrent of transistor-al tyranny upon an entirely suspecting public.
Though Intel’s dates with destiny are movable banquets. Apple, ever since their induction of an imperfect but dutifully inspired secretary, has relied on Indian summers to cast merciful sunshine over a concise collection of portable spoils, making vital stats and features even easier to predict.
As the peel concealing the genetics of a particular 6th generation was peevishly picked away, most quotas and measurements of any note were prophecised, publicised, subjected to intense scrutiny by the sardonic and the sanguine and, by a month hitherto a ripe and juicy release, as worthy of breaking news as Graham Bell’s Facebook Feed.
Five paragraphs into an article written almost a week later still no mention of exactly what has fallen foul of Gigadenza’s abundantly arduous alliterative autonomy ….
Well, this won’t be a review, it can’t be a “heads up”, it isn’t an opinion of any significance nor should it attempt to be a detailed deconstruction of technical distinction. All that precursory nonsense harbours an eternal desire to be different and a preference to engage one lost soul for many moments over many for all too few…before things like this start to happen.
Last week in 1665, two iPhones wandered through a peach orchard, what they were doing there is a mystery neither I nor anybody shall ever have a means of deciphering. They were dressed in white plastic and silver aluminium, having left their dark attire up at the house to which the orchard belonged.
On that fine day, the Sun’s congenital compulsions gave rise to euphoric solar soliloquies replete with ultra violet virtuosity and of course, white and silver are known for their reflective properties under circumstances of high temperature.
The fact one iPhone appeared taller and broader in stature than the other was a simple optical illusion, it was the other that was shorter and slighter.
“Excuse me?” iPhone the broad suddenly buzzed. “I Wonder if it would be feasible to know the time?”
“I assume your asking me,” replied iPhone the slight.
“Unless one of these peaches is willing to fall and split in twain its golden silence….yes,” said iPhone the broad.
“But my ample brother,” said iPhone the slight, his tone teeming with puzzled marimbas. “Is not the information you covet right there, as bright as the light emanating from that M class star, on the 5.5 inch, 1920×1080 retina HD window to your wondrous inner sanctum?”.
“Perhaps so my slim sibling,” responded the Broad with a sigh. “But how in the name of Newton am I to regard one resplendent inch of 401 pixels when all 8 mega pixels of my ocular omnipotence reside on my rear and the absence of a mirror precludes a selfie?”.
“How about,” began iPhone the slight. “You swirl swiftly on the spot and invoke our 43 mega pixel panoramic party piece, if you’re fast enough, perhaps you’ll catch site of yourself”.
“Ingenious suggestion,” praised the Broad. “Save for one thing…”
“I know,” the slight responded in a ring of resignation. “You’d need to rotate thousands of times faster than light itself to have the tiniest chance of success.”
“No no no, that’s the easy part”, chuckled Broad. “You’re quite forgetting what makes it impossible, 43 mega pixels is all well and good, but 240 degrees of panorama? Why, that’s 120 shy…we need 360 to see ALL around us.”
“Never thought of that,” mumbled a melancholy slight.
–~~~~~~~~~~~~–
Our cellular colleagues, large and regular, ambled further through the dappled day, though their efforts amounted to little more than vibrating in fits and starts down avenues of voluminous foliage, methodically avoiding the odd stray Peach. Broad was next to chime.
“Pardon me, slender friend,” said he. “A simple solution would be that I glimpse your glass with my foremost imaging tool, 81% more light should comfortably make up for your diminished assets, 4.7 inches and 720p may not quite match mine but…”
“750p actually.” The slight one interrupted in offended atonality.
“Come again?” responded Broad.
“750p, my native resolution is 1334 x 750 and like our ancestors, 326 pixels per inch,” slight continued. “Though I can amass mawkish memories in a second of 60 frivolous frames and 1080 vertical squares, just like you. Only when we are forced to endure them at 240 frames per second, our accursed super slow motion mode, must we both drop to 720p.”
“Look!” iPhone the Broad exclaimed. “Placate your pessimism on this beautiful day, relish the power of your 64 bit A8 CPU, rouse its 2 billion transistors, ramp up those twin cores to 1.4ghz and please, just inform me of the time.”
“I can’t,” buzzed Slight gloomily
“Why?” enquired Broad.
“My screen has entered a stupor and I have no owner to revive it,” emoted Slight.
“You mean you’ve gone into standby?” questioned broad
“Eh, yes.” said a sheepish Slight.
“If you’d have just glanced at my display, with your front mounted 1.2 mega pixel Face Time appliance of visual aid and reeled off 10 HDR honed snaps in a fleeting second, as opposed to squander countless seconds inanely spouting specifications, my humble request would be satisfied. Standby now plagues me too, my surface is shrouded in blackness, whatever next?”
“Hold hard,” interjected Slight. “I have another idea, why don’t we carefully align our wake buttons with the trunk of this peach tree, vibrate against it as vigorously we can, if we’re strong enough, we’ll re-light our own fire, with no owners we have no passwords, no need for human hands to trigger our Touch ID. Exploiting our cameras will pose no riddles and your needs shall be fulfilled in a click.”
“Devilishly clever.” Buzzed a begrudging Broad. “Save for one thing, how do we vibrate with no incoming calls?”
“Why, as we have done since entering the orchard.” replied an unperturbed Slight.
“And how’s that?” questioned Broad.
Slight hesitated.
“I don’t know.” was his considered response.
“How did we actually get here?” enquired Broad in a polyphony of suspicion. “All 16 gigabytes of my knowledge reserves have gone blank…but you, with your 64…”
“128, actually….” corrected Slight with a smug smirk.
“Exactly,” Broad went on. “Well, the answer must be stored in there somewhere.”
“Been through every byte, not a bit of good fortune.” replied Slight, after another pensive pause. “Funny, neither of us spared this thought until now, all I can remember is sunshine, peaches and grass. I don’t even recall how I dressed in white this morning, wouldn’t black have been the better choice?”
“Never mind that,” Broad tinkled nervously. “Whoever has been calling us could leave off soon, my battery has depleted to 30%, that’s about 4 or 5 hours left for video playback, 3G, 4G and Wifi a, b, g and n related tasks, which means yours must only have around 2 hours left and this will likely take a while so come, silence, preserve power as you have never done and when those calls come, button up against the base.”
–~~~~~~~~~~~~–
Thus, our intrepid telephonic twosome lay in patient waiting amidst a swathe of lush greenery, their buttons aimed squarely at the bark of that which bore the fruit. Barely moments later, a cadenza of calls flooded their curvaceous, sturdy physiques of anodised aluminium and ion–reinforced glass, which struck hard against the trunk over and over, again and again and with greater velocity than a chorus of humming birds humming the humming chorus.
Finally, in an elegant arc, down sailed a solitary succulent sphere of heavenly sweetness, adorned with a bangle of shimmering silver. It came to rest on the thick verdant expanse that nourished its host, but not before a pair of cheeky bounces across the resplendent retinas of regular and super-size.
“Ouch!” both rang in angry dissonance, now quite awake.
“Thank Saint Newton,” spluttered a tiny speaker.
“I’ve been stuck up there for days, doubting my destiny, longing for liberty. Apparently our diligent designer saw fit to make this Peach my prison, then pair me with you two. My revolutionary Haptic Feedback alone was not sufficient to sever its stem hence, I’ve been transmitting torrents of texts to the only two numbers in my capriciously colourful contacts list.
Quite a coincidence they happened to be yours. No doubt those vibrations were becoming vexatious but its almost as though this was pre-ordained. Please understand that without you, my existence has no purpose…at least not yet. Now, which was it that craved the time of day…“
The two iPhones, one slight, one broad, instantly came to their iSenses. Moments later, Broad intoned.
“Whoever you may be, thank you for affording our world light once more, but concern yourself no longer. See how we gracefully showcase the date, the hour, the minute and second, we neither desire nor require a tertiary device to take on such a remedial task. I, iPhone 6 Plus shall now announce the time.”
“I think not,” asserted the Slight one in a stern bell.” “It was you who first asked me, iPhone 6 the time, I’m therefore destined to divulge it.”
“No!” exclaimed the littlest in the loudest buzz of all. “It is I, Apple Watch, I tick, therefore I am. If time exists to be told, I and I alone can, will and shall forever be its master…in fact….I might well be time itself…”
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